


Did you sleep with me last night?

by fixme_in_fortyfive



Series: Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles [7]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Blackcards!Pete, M/M, Peterick, Smut, Soulpunk!Patrick, Tumblr Prompt, Vandays!Patrick, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-06 17:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6764119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixme_in_fortyfive/pseuds/fixme_in_fortyfive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Base on this prompt I got from a lovely anon: van days pete and patrick show up from the past and soul punk patrick and black cards pete end up having sex (somehow) with them (like young pete and older patrick vice-versa) and in the end present pete and patrick get together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did you sleep with me last night?

_//Hey Patrick, it’s me. Uhh… Pete. I know we haven’t… really talked much. But something crazy just happened. It’s… you’re here! But… it’s not you, I mean… it is! It’s just, god ,you’re so young! Anyway. Call me back, please.//_

Patrick drops the phone onto his bed. That message makes as much sense as Pete’s lyrics sometimes. 

 _They haven’t talked much?_ Yeah, but that’s on Pete.  

But he’ll deal with that later, he is still riding too high to care or think about anything right now. His show that night just ended and it was great; maybe the best show he had so far without Fall Out Boy. 

Patrick is feeling so good, he doesn’t even care that he’s a sweaty mess, his shirt soaked through, sticking to his skin. His hair is soaked and he’s glad he’s not wearing a hat at all times anymore, it makes it a little more bearable. 

He is looking forward to a shower though.

Already loosening the bow-tie around his neck and unbuttoning his dress-shirt he’s on his way to the shower, when a shiver runs down his neck, a tingling feeling there. It feels familiar, somehow, on his sweat-soaked skin.

Patrick’s not dwelling on that, he’s too eager to get under the hot water. But the feeling never leaves; maybe he’s coming down with something.

When he’s finally standing under the hot spray, water running down his body, the little tingling feeling gets harder to ignore, wandering down Patrick’s neck to his shoulders and the front to his collarbone. It makes him shiver again, even with the hot water surrounding him, steam already filling the small room. 

Now it feels more like a caress on his skin, like someone kissing his neck. When he closes his eyes it takes only a second for a mental picture to appear in his head. It’s him and Pete – because it always is – even though he looks a lot younger than he really is. In his head he’s still wearing his trade mark trucker hat – the damn bingo-hat even – and sporting sideburns like it’s a fashion trend. 

But it doesn’t matter, because even when they were still touring in a broken down van he had always wanted Pete. In his head Pete is now kissing him. It’s like Patrick is watching himself with Pete from a distance, but he still feels Pete’s touch against his skin. Almost like he is remembering something that happened a long time ago, yet is happening right now. Pete is kissing him, head buried in Patrick’s neck and Patrick feels it on his skin.

That’s why it felt so familiar; whenever Pete breathed down his neck when they were on stage it felt just the same, just like he’s doing now. But he’s also pulling Patrick into his lap and that had never happened like this. Patrick can’t see his own face because it’s covered by the trucker hat, but he can imagine it must feel fantastic, to be pushed down onto Pete’s lap like that.

Patrick shudders at the thought, bracing himself with a hand against the wall. How many times did he think about it, he can’t remember, but this feels like it could actually happen? It’s just the two of them, no crazy porn-moves, no weird scenarios – except it happening at all. 

Just thinking about it makes Patrick’s dick hard, breath quickening and his skin heating up.   

In his head Pete starts rubbing himself against Patrick now and he’s not sure anymore he’s not really feeling it all over his skin. But he’s of course alone in his shower. When he moans, there’s a moan from him in his head, too, perfectly synced. Pete is moaning, too, and it sounds just like it did late at night when he thought everyone else was sleeping. 

When Pete tries to take Patrick’s shirt off, there’s an awkward moment where in his head Patrick stops Pete from doing it – and that’s so not how a sex-fantasy works. It’s never awkward, it’s always the hottest you can imagine - but it feels so familiar again – the uncomfortable feeling of being naked in front of somebody. Because he has never been slim and fit, has rather been a little too chubby. It’s so close to the truth Patrick actually feels self-conscious for a moment. It changed a little as he grew older and lost some of the weight, but still. 

But when Pete murmurs sweet encouragements into his ear about Patrick not worrying, about how he loves everything about him, it warms Patrick’s heart. These words Pete never actually said, but that Patrick wished so often he would have. 

They move on in his head, Pete slowly taking off Patrick’s t-shirt, kissing and rubbing all over his body when he exposes a new inch of skin. But Pete is moving faster now, like he can’t hold back anymore, rubbing harder against Patrick, hands pulling and pushing against him and ravishing his mouth in a kiss Patrick can almost taste. It’s so hot, has Patrick moaning again.

When Pete wraps his hand around Patrick’s dick – pants only pushed down his hips as far as needed for Pete to do so - Patrick can’t help but mirror the move, gripping tight. He feels so close already, hasn’t felt that close that fast since he’s been… well, probably since he’s been the same age his fantasy-self is. 

Pete’s jerking him fast and Patrick moans – in his bathroom and his head – trying to hold back a little, to not actually get off like a teenager, but it’s no help. Just minutes later he’s coming, over Pete’s hand and his own hand. He slumps a little forward, his head against the cool wall. 

He’s breathing heavy and he would be embarrassed if that would have really happened so fast. But like this his body just relaxes and he relishes Pete’s soft words in his head, how beautiful he is, how he never thought this would happen. Pete is still jerking him, slowly now, telling him how he will open him up right now and then take him. It keeps Patrick under the hot water, rooted in place, his spent dick twitching at the thought. He can’t again, can he? He’s not some horny teenager anymore, although it feels a lot like it. 

Patrick takes a couple of deep breath, still braced against the wall, eyes closed and somehow waiting for his own fantasy to continue. He is surprised when he actually imagines Pete digging under the couch and coming up again with a bottle of lube in his hand - Patrick has no idea why he’s thinking about that.

Before he can think about this though Pete is manhandling him to get his pants off completely now, before placing Patrick in his lap again, legs opened on either side of Pete’s body, exposing him and giving Pete every possibility to touch Patrick all over. Right now he’s drawing circles on Patrick’s thighs that tickle a little. But he moves on soon enough, spreading Patrick’s leg even wider so he can reach between and push one wet finger between his ass cheeks. 

He can’t actually see it in his head, but he knows it, knows how Pete just teases him, making him desperate for it. Patrick knows it like he knows he had cereal for breakfast. 

And it’s working, because Patrick is getting hard again and in his head he’s trying to push against Pete’s finger, groaning in frustration and moaning when he finally succeeds and one slick finger pushes in. 

It feels amazing, that slight burning sensation that Patrick feels in his gut even though he’s just standing in his shower. It feels so real, he’s almost pushing his hips in time with Pete’s finger inside him. 

When Pete pushes his own pants down his hips he thinks he might just choke on his own spit. It’s kind of the same reaction his fantasy self has. Of course he’s seen Pete naked before, who hasn’t, but never like this, never that close and never that hard – never because of him. It’s an unmatched feeling he gets from thinking about it. 

When he grabs Patrick by the hips and lifts him up, whispering to him softly about how he can’t wait to get inside him, how he had been thinking about that for so long, it makes Patrick blush in his head and he feels it on prickling his cheeks, even though his skin is already hot all over. 

Then Pete lowers Patrick slowly onto his dick and he can’t prevent his own hand wandering down his back and between his cheeks, to get a little of the actual friction - to match the image of Pete pushing inside him until he’s fully seated on his dick. Although Pete was hurrying before, he’s now just holding Patrick in place and breathing deeply, eyes closed in concentration. Because he’s close to losing it and it makes Patrick feel surprisingly smug. 

And in his head he’s now exploring Pete’s body – finally - roaming freely now that Pete is distracted, tracing some of the tattoos on his skin. Oh, how he wants to do that, to just be able to touch as he pleases, kiss the inked skin. 

His thoughts are interrupted when Pete starts moving again. He’s pushing Patrick up and down by his hips, indicating the rhythm even though he’s not really moving at all. But Patrick is just letting him, his head on Pete’s shoulder, every now and then moaning and whimpering on a particularly good push down. And he can’t fight it himself either, his fingers still pushing and rubbing over his hole, barely pushing in.

It doesn’t matter, because he can almost feel Pete filling him up, stretching him and hitting his sweet spot dead on. Between that and the combined moaning he hears – practically in surround sound - Pete’s fast breathing and his quiet grunts – it’s not surprising that he’s close to coming again. 

It’s too much, the little shocks he feels every time he sees Pete pushing into his body, the way he’s holding onto Patrick desperately, his moves getting desperate and jerky. It feels so good, better than anything he ever imagined before, but he can’t take it much longer. 

It’s the same moment when Patrick grabs his dick in his head and in reality and it feels just right. He’s jerking himself while Pete’s still pushing inside him – or rather pushes Patrick down onto him - hard and quick strokes that never miss to make Patrick moan. 

With a shout that’s drowned out by the water Patrick comes again, his legs feeling all wobbly. He’s panting and his heart beats a mile a minute. 

Pete is still going in his head and Patrick feels the familiar feeling of overstimulation and his eyes fly open. The mental picture disappears, he can’t see it anymore, but he can feel it until it stops completely and instead Patrick feels just warm. He’s standing there for another minute, he doesn’t even know what he’s waiting for, but nothing happens, so he turns to shut off the water. The room is full of steam, fogging up the glass of the shower cabin. 

He just wants to sleep now. 

When he’s back in his bedroom – not bothering to dress himself - and drops himself onto the soft covers, he squishes his phone between himself and the mattress. Pulling it out he sees another message. He already forgot about Pete’s earlier voicemail. That’s probably him, too.

When he opens the message he sees it’s a picture, but it takes a minute to load. When it does Patrick almost chokes on his tongue.

It’s a picture of Pete and _him_. Him as in the fantasy he just had – trucker hat, sideburns and all – standing next to Pete. Except they’re dressed and not naked. And Pete looks as freaked out as he sounded before on his voicemail.

**No way!**

~

Patrick is pacing up and down, phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder, hands fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. It’s ringing. 

He hasn’t really slept all night after whatever the hell happened last night. He wanted to just dismiss it, crazy talk, a good Photoshop-manipulation. But when he woke up in the middle of the night to another strange tingling and the mental image of Pete’s lips wrapped around his dick, blowing him in the dark, it changed his mind. It drove Patrick crazy. 

And he needs to talk to Pete, needs him to tell him that he probably just had a really good dream. But Pete hadn’t picked up the phone all morning. It rings for another minute and then there is a rustling sound. 

“Patrick?” It’s Pete voice, sleepy on the other end. Patrick’s not surprised, he probably had been up all night.

“So… I got your message.” It’s as good a start as any. Obviously his voicemail and the picture happened before it got all.. sexed up. Pete probably has no idea the he knew what happened. What he - _they_ \- did. 

Patrick clears his throat once and goes on to bridge the awkward silence. 

“Talking about crazy things… did you uh… sleep with me last night?” He gets it out without stumbling over the words. 

“What?” He’s not laughing it off, like he should be, like he would be if Patrick was wrong. He would make some joke about ‘ _no, but maybe tonight?_ ’’ and they would laugh about it. So Patrick’s right. He didn’t just fantasize it, it really happened.

“Not… me. Obviously.” Even though Patrick is right he still needs to hear Pete say it.

“O-kay.”

“So, did you?”

“I’m not sure... I mean… why...”

“I’m asking because I miss you. And I heard… what you said, to me. Him. And if you meant that, then I’m here, waiting for you to let me in.”

“Patrick.” Pete’s voice is soft, not with sleep, but with something else. “I have let you in a long time ago, you should know that!”

Patrick laughs a little. “No, I mean… I’m really waiting for you to let me in, I’m outside!”

Patrick turns and looks at Pete’s front door. It kind of ruined the moment, because Pete’s wheezing donkey laugh crackling through the phone so that Patrick has to hold it away from his ear. But it’s also kind of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure you see what I did there, I'm not sure I see what I did there. 
> 
> You can send me prompts and a ship, if you want. Either here or on [tumblr](http://fixme-in-fortyfive.tumblr.com/)


End file.
